


Vespers

by mresundance



Category: True Blood
Genre: M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:16:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mresundance/pseuds/mresundance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Godric takes charge and there is sex in a cathedral.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vespers

Godric felt frisky and so he didn't wear underwear that evening. It was something impish Eric might do, he thought, as they rode the bus like normal people. But the city brought it out in him.

Some vampires longed for the lights and noise and musky smell of Paris, bathing in the moonlight reflected off the sapphire waters of the Seine. Some vampires adored Florence, listening to the sound of church bells just before the sun disappeared, haunting his art galleries and cobbled streets long through the night. They used to flock to Lebanon before the war, humming mingled French and Arabic and enjoying the balmy breezes from Mediterranean. Even Mumbai was a favorite, with steaming nights of sweet scented flowers and spices, humans in glad colors. Some vampires were even called to London – her bruising, frank manner – the frenzy of streets and different languages and nationalities and cultures and races on each street corner. And hot cups of tea and fresh pints in the pubs and night cafes, the warm, soothing smell staining the air.

But of all the cities in Europe and further afield he'd visited, Norwich was his darling. It was old enough to anchor Godric in time and history the way few places could anymore, but still young enough that it put a spring in his 2,000 year old step. He'd watched it grow up, beginning with small settlements of once native Britons. The Roman invasions gave way to the Anglo-Saxons and then the Normans, each culture leaving something behind, adding to the city until it stood now. The Norman keep now glowed white on the Castle Mound and seemed to hover about the city. The streets broiled with people on a Saturday night. Through the open bus window Godric smelled the cafes and restaurants. Disembarking from the bus at Gentleman's walk, Godric felt from blocks away the pulse of music in pavement from Prince of Wales Street, where many of the clubs were.

Eric bumped into his shoulder.

"Where to?" he asked. Tall in dark jeans, a black t-shirt taut across his chest, broad shoulders well defined by his red-brown leather jacket. Godric had bought it for Eric last night. Eric had wanted to refuse; he didn't like being cared for, especially not having nice things bought for him. It made him feel like he was being treated "like the girl". Godric had told him he looked good in it – so he would have it – and to be quiet and grateful.

"I don't know where," Godric laughed now and Eric crooked an eyebrow. "Let's meander."

It was a summer night and the moon was golden and glorious as they passed under the hot, spicy scents of the Lebanese restaurant at the end of Gentlemen's Walk. They wandered up the hill and around the ghostly Norman keep, then back down into the knotted streets, past closed and dark shops until they reached Gaoler's Hill and then The Belgian Monk. Humans loved The Belgian Monk for its brews and the food. They had two for a tenner, which they had recently extended to vampire clients drinking True Blood. They were upscale enough, and it was a sign of the times in Europe and England that they allowed vampires past their doors.

Vampires were rarely outed at the Belgian Monk, either; they served True Blood in special tall pint glasses, warm and foamy, so it looked a little like their cherry beer. Humans, occupied with their own drinks or food and friends and lovers, usually didn't notice the few vampires scattered through the pub and restaurant.

Godric and Eric took seats in the outside courtyard, enjoying the evening. Eric made faces over his True Blood but Godric thought the awful taste as a small price to pay for enjoying a nice restaurant and an evening out like human folk.

"I hear there's a new club down the street that would suit us," Eric said. "They have . . . fresh food." His subtle way of indicating the club allowed blood prostitutes and humans who fed vampires, so long as no-one got killed or ended up in the hospital.

Godric laughed.

"Drink and do as you're told," he said, voice firm.

Eric's face smoothed over with obedience and he did. Godric drank and felt the synthetic blood drip through him; it was clotty and carried heaviness which was not wholesome, nor invigorating, but it was alright now and again, like the occasional night when all one did was indulge in overly sweet cake and wine instead of a real supper. So long as one didn't try to live on it. Godric supposed one could – _he_ could – but he wondered if depriving oneself of natural blood wouldn't lead to tearing some unfortunate humans apart later, after the bloodlust had built up over time and become too great to deny or contain. He'd heard stories which seemed to indicate as much, even if Vampire Leagues around the world denied it in almost every language that now existed. Godric thought it was better to take a little from a willing human and leave that human alive than end up killing dozens of them later.

As he drained his glass, Godric watched Eric. The steady bob of the Adam's apple and the fine yet masculine lines of his features. He'd always been and always would be a fine specimen and if Godric was clear with himself, it had been a factor in creating Eric. It was hard to see what was wrong with having a willing, beautiful and loyal companion for eternity.

Godric leaned in and grazed Eric's forearm with his knuckles. Eric finished his glass and put it down. He looked thoughtfully at Godric, whose smile was flirtatious and hungry.

"What's gotten into you?" Eric said.

Godric just laughed, sliding his hand up Eric's thigh. Eric looked embarrassed for only a second. Ignoring the few others in the courtyard, who really couldn't see in the dark, Godric slipped his hand between Eric's legs and lightly squeezed him through his jeans. Eric growled and Godric saw the white tips of fangs under his lips.

"That's my boy," Godric said, squeezing again. He looked up into Eric's face and experienced the familiar sensation of their thousand years together peering back at him through Eric. Godric bit his lip, looking coy. He moved his hand back to Eric's thigh and stroked him idly.

"They think you're underaged," Eric said finally of the humans casting concerned looks at them. Godric stuck his tongue out at Eric. Eric moved to bite at Godric; instead they just kissed, open mouthed.

"You're mine," Godric said. "I can do whatever I want to you. You couldn't stop me." Eric's shudder was palpable.

"Let's go. I want to walk," Godric rose. Eric left a few pound coins for the servers while Godric nodded to the people who thought Eric was a perv who molested boys. They all looked away and Eric snorted.

"Come on," Godric put his arm around Eric's waist and led them out. From an outsider's view it must have seemed strange: the younger, smaller man leading. Usually he let Eric lead in all their interactions, especially with humans. It was more in Eric's nature and Godric needn't prove to Eric who was stronger, faster, older. But it was nice to be in control tonight, to tow Eric around like his pet. And Eric relaxed himself completely into Godric's hold.

At a leisurely pace they walked, the same pace as the humans around them, down through the tight, winding little streets into Tombland. The Anglo-Saxon market had once stood there, reeking of mud and animal piss and onions and human sweat. Now it was just pearly mist and the scent of human laughter. Their footsteps echoed off medieval cobbles and happiness surged through Godric. Ahead, the bone white spire of the cathedral pricked the black sky.

They paused a few times, Godric thrusting Eric into dark street corners to kiss him, suck on his lips and tongue, push their bodies together. Lick the sharp points of Eric's fangs with his tongue, knead his ass, or run a teasing hand between his thighs.

"Godric," Eric said, exasperation dripping from his voice.

"What?" Godric demanded.

Eric was silent.

"I'll have you when I'm ready."

Eric nodded, shy and obedient. Godric had to keep himself from fucking Eric in some manner right there and then.

The streets gasped into a wide courtyard in front of the cathedral. Restaurant customers spilled all across the courtyard and there was a symphony of laughter, talk, silverware and glasses. Whisky colored light from the streetlamps dappled the trees and cobblestones. They crossed the street and entered the cathedral close through the Ethelbert gate, which was nearest. A small arch of medieval stone, later rebuilt, depicting Ethelbert squaring off with a graceful dragon. The cathedral close was silent and the dark was interrupted by only a few lighted windows. They walked towards the cathedral, though it had closed hours ago. Godric reached up and stroked Eric's belly and then pinched his nipple through his shirt.

In the night the cathedral loomed white and black, ghostly and pristine. The foundation stones were nearly a thousand years old and she was calming and alluring to Godric.

They walked past the front, admiring the carvings and architecture as they went.

"Don't all cathedral entrances look like a vulva?"

Godric laughed aloud.

"Eric!"

"But it's true," Eric said. "This one even has a knob at the top like a clitoris."

"Maybe it says something about the nature of the divine."

"I hope not."

They went to the left of the front entrance, traveling alongside the cathedral where they alighted on stone parapets. They traversed the parapets without rattling a spire, tile, or windowpane. Eric's golden hair shone in the dark and his skin was all warm ivory and Godric's mouth filled with a hot, wanting taste. He made a noise. Eric looked at Godric over his shoulder, coy and dangerous all at once. He smirked and began to ascend the crossing tower, three hundred feet into the Norwich night.

Godric laughed. He chased Eric up past the dark glass windows, up and up the spiny, sloping rooftop which met in a point. They didn't make it all the way to the top; Godric caught Eric as he crouched over a roofed window, which gave him a ledge. He pinned Eric against the roof.

"We should fuck out here," Eric said faintly as Godric ran his hands up all over and nipped his neck.

"Should we?"

Eric nodded.

Godric laughed again, the sound echoing over the sleeping city. From up here they could see the Castle Mound; pubs still casting light into the streets, taxis bobbing over cobblestones, the river black and silent. Prince of Wales Street still bounced with lights and people coming and going and somewhere Godric smelled someone burning their trash even if they shouldn't. It was sweet.

Godric grabbed Eric's hair.

"We won't. Come."

Releasing Eric, he slid down the tower, searching for the passages and windows he had come to know over time. Eric followed.

They entered the cathedral through a small window which Godric unlatched. The inside was a dark, gawping cavern. Pale moonlight fell through the many windows, illuminating the long nave and the vaulted stone ceiling. Ashen pillars stood guard in the night and it was cool and silent.

Each side of the nave was flanked on the upper levels by a clerestory, walkways with windows and arches, barred to the public. Godric and Eric folded themselves in the ghostly shadows of the right clerestory. Godric studied the windows on the west wall and the light falling onto the stone floor.

"I love this place," he said finally. Eric nodded.

Godric looked up at Eric in the dark, picking out those fine features, the rough line of stubble. Putting his hands on Eric's hips, he guided them, gently, until Eric's back was against one of the pillared arches. And there kissed him, small and tender, on the lips.

"I want you," Eric said into his lips. Godric pushed against Eric and dug his fingers into his hair as they kissed again.

"I don't care what you want," Godric hissed and bit Eric's lip. "You're going to fuck me in here." His hoarse words shuddered against the stone walls of the cathedral. Eric trembled.

They kissed a few more minutes, Eric's tongue slick and greedy, until Godric put his hand on the top of Eric's head. He forced Eric to kneel, though Eric didn't put up too much resistance. His eyes glowed with adoration in the dark, so bright they burned. Godric held Eric's chin in his hand and looked into those eyes. Ran his thumb over Eric's warm pink lips, then slid it in, feeling Eric wrap around him. His sucking felt like a promise.

"Good boy," he purred, stroking Eric's hair. "You always were such a good child."

Godric withdrew his thumb. The sound of his jeans unzipping tore open the quiet. The night air was cool against him. Godric pulled Eric towards him and Eric nuzzled him, inhaling his scent, no doubt. Godric murmured in the back of his throat.

Eric paused.

"You didn't wear underwear," he said from Godric's groin. Godric snorted.

"Shut up." He yanked Eric's hair.

Eric pushed his face back into Godric. His lips and tongue were greedy, wet, and warm. Eric was tentative, kissing and licking until Godric pinched his shoulder. Eric looked up at Godric, eyes dark. Godric felt Eric's lips slide around him, the slight pressure of his fangs, and then his whole mouth pulling him in. Godric groaned and Eric sucked harder. Godric's legs began to quiver after a few minutes and Eric's broad palms cupped and kneaded his ass in timing to the rhythm his mouth set.

Godric began mumbling – ohfuckyes, yes Eric please, good boy, you're so good – until he was gasping and felt his whole body contract and shake and then relax. He listened to the pigeons in the cloisters and watched moonlight refract off glass, spun over cathedral stone like a web of stars. Eric's mouth was gentle now. Godric stroked his hair again. Eric put his arms around Godric's waist and kissed his navel.

"Did I please you?" he smirked.

Godric flicked Eric's nose. Impudent bastard, he thought. He nudged Eric away with his knee and zipped his jeans.

"You did," Godric tried to sound bored. "But now I'm tired. Let's go."

Eric's face was cross – he'd thought Godric would give in return. Godric shrugged.

"You did what I wanted. That's enough for now."

Eric glared at him for a second. "Yes," he said but didn't entirely mean it.

"Greedy," Godric tweaked his ear.

"You love it," Eric said as Godric lead them back out. They walked along south wall of the nave, then down into the cloisters where the Queen's Labyrinth lay. It was merely white stones laid in a circular maze. Godric went through it every time he visited the cathedral, as he did now.

"I suppose I do. Love it," he answered Eric, eyes fixed on the ground the maze. Eric sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against a pillar in the cloisters. Eric thought Godric's fascination with this human labyrinth and its meaning was beneath him.

Eric waited for Godric to finish and then they flew out of the cloisters. The cathedral close was dark and still as they passed through the Ethelbert gate again and disappeared back into the city together.

\---------------------------------------

[Norwich @ Wiki](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwich)   
[Norwich Official Website](http://www.norwich.gov.uk/)   
[Norwich Cathedral @ Wiki](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Norwich_Cathedral)   
[Norwich Cathedral Official Website](http://www.cathedral.org.uk/)

Aside: Norwich's "motto" is "A fine city". *snort* You might find this funnier if you've visited or lived there.


End file.
